


Temper, Temper

by Fig Newton (sg_fignewton)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, Friendship, Gen, General!Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 14:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_fignewton/pseuds/Fig%20Newton
Summary: Sometimes, a little crankiness comes in handy. A missing scene with Jack and Jacob fromReckoning.





	Temper, Temper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nomad (nomadicwriter)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomadicwriter/gifts).



> Birthday fic, written in December 2010, for the prompt _Jack and Jacob being cranky at each other_.

Jack scrubbed a hand through his hair, allowing himself the luxury of a sigh of frustration. After years of struggle against megalomaniac snakes, it just didn't seem fair that the entire galaxy was going down to a bunch of rabid Lego blocks. 

He was grateful to Jacob for ignoring the Council's directives and coming to the SGC to share Tok'ra intel. There was a strange, almost morbid fascination in watching those little red dots wink out, one by one, as the Replicators systematically wiped out the Goa'uld. Only now, of course, the Tok'ra gizmo had decided to go on the fritz, and Jacob's efforts to get it working again didn't seem to be getting anywhere.

Jack cast a sidelong glance at the balding man who sat glaring at the computer screen, grumbling to himself in a voice that occasionally shifted unexpectedly into a deeper phlanged rumble. There were too many uneasy thoughts unspoken there, frustration and fear warring with each other and leaving both man and symbiote with vile tempers. It wasn't just the deteriorating situation out there, Jack knew. Part of it was the Tok'ra's contemptuous rejection of Selmac's counsel and opinions, the one they had once called their "oldest and wisest." The simultaneous abandonment of Jacob's home planet certainly didn't help, either. But worst of all, both Jack and Jacob were all too painfully aware that the Replicators were being directed by a creature with the face and mind of Samantha Carter -- only this Sam had all the brakes off, devoid of the morals her father had taught her and the principles of the Air Force that she and Jack had served together. Watching the carnage playing out across the galaxy, part of him was secretly awed by the sheer self-control that the real Sam Carter must have on a regular basis. 

All things considered, Jack admired Jacob and Selmac's shared repertoire of muttered swear words. Maybe he could come up with a few original ones of his own.

"This isn't working!" Jacob suddenly burst out, shoving his chair back. "I can't get the receiver to mesh with this cheap, shoddy --"

"Hey, that's Air Force's finest you're maligning," Jack protested with idle insincerity. Then he saw Jacob's eyes narrow, heard the hiss of indrawn breath, and suddenly realized how much both of them -- all three of them, actually -- really needed this. So he deliberately added, "Anyway, we're 28 levels underground. We can't even get cable here. If we can't get ESPN network, how do you expect to get access to your subspace network?"

"Jack, could you just _try_ not to be stupid for long enough to--"

"Aluminum foil to boost the signal, maybe? I could probably find some in the kitchen. I specifically remember signing the requisition for some."

"Maybe you could make a tin foil hat for yourself!" Jacob snapped. "Use it to keep all the fairies out."

Jack tried to look hurt. "Hey, don't blame me for this! You'd think your doohickey could at least get _The Simpsons_..."

Things got a little incoherent after that. Jack soon lost sight of the deliberate provocation thing and charged enthusiastically into the all-out-argument thing. He vaguely remembered a three-way shouting match and some crashing furniture, although no one lost it enough to try to actually throw a punch. And afterward, with the air still sizzling from the pungency of some choice phrases and the SFs at the door very carefully pretending deafness, Jacob calmly picked up his chair, sat down at the computer console, and went back to work.

The red dots popped back onto the screen a few minutes later. Their Tok'ra satellite dish was back in business.

"Nice work, Jacob," Jack said cheerfully. "And Selmac too, of course."

Jacob eyed him with well-deserved skepticism, then blinked his eyes gold. "Thank you, General O'Neill," Selmac replied acerbically for them both. "That was quite therapeutic. I must remember to lose my temper with you more often in the future."

"Ah, thank you," Jack said, and he could feel his smile slowly leaking away. "I'll look forward to that... I think."


End file.
